


Full Circle

by ottermo



Category: Humans (TV)
Genre: Gen, Hugs, like to the point where this should be a warning tag, so many hugs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-30
Updated: 2018-05-30
Packaged: 2019-05-16 06:19:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14805959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ottermo/pseuds/ottermo
Summary: The Elsters have been through a lot.They just need, like, a few minutes to hug it out and talk about a few things.Also, Mattie's there.





	Full Circle

**Author's Note:**

> Just let me make my excuses before this goes any further: 
> 
> This is probably the MOST self-indulgent, inconsequential, fluffy, so-far-from-what-Humans-is-supposed-to-be, just all-round Cheese Fest, that I've ever written, and although it got monstrously long, I really didn't know how to finish it, I just really wanted to post it and get it over with before episode 3 comes out. This is just 6.9k words of me trying to force all of these people to communicate and - yes, give each other hugs. That's all it is.
> 
> Oh, with a little side of Leotilda. This is probably the longest I've ever tried to write from Leo's POV, and it probably shows, but... you know, I'll just let you read it, shall I?

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

There were voices. Two of them.

Leo was not quite awake yet, but he could hear two people talking at a distance. Not loudly. Perhaps from the next room. He shuffled uncomfortably, realised in some confusion that he was lying on a sofa, not a bed. He stared up at the unfamiliar ceiling, and gradually it came back to him: he was at Mattie’s house. He had been here for a few days. This morning they had been...talking, and he must have fallen asleep.

“I wish I’d been there.”

”We all did. But at least you’re here now.”

The second voice was Mattie’s, her tone warm and comforting. Leo felt his lip twitch slightly, a fondness spreading through him. Mattie could be so… she did not always sound like that. Soft edges and tenderness. But when she did, it was… well, he liked it a lot.

“When can I see him?”

The first voice again. Leo recognised it, knew it well. Yet his mind would not allow him to name it, as though the voice ought to be only a memory, never to be heard new again.

“I don’t know. He’s recovering crazily fast, but it takes it out of him, I think. He keeps going for ages and then just, like, crashes, without a warning.” She paused. “Got to stop with the computer metaphors now, I suppose.”

Leo shifted slightly, trying to sit upright, but not all of his muscles were terribly interested in obeying his commands. An attempt to call out to announce his awakening revealed that his throat was very dry - he could produce nothing but a croak.

Still, it seemed to reach them, because the next thing he heard was Mattie’s voice, saying, “I think that’s him. Wait here. I’ll prepare him a bit.”

He wondered vaguely what she meant, but didn’t have much time for it before she appeared, kneeling by the side of the sofa, her hand on his arm in much the same way as he remembered her doing in his room at the Railyard.

“Hey. You’re awake.”

Being aware of the fact already, Leo made no reply. Mattie twisted from her position to reach a glass of water that was on the coffee table, and made a tactful attempt at not helping him drink from it too obviously.

“Someone’s here to see you.”

Leo frowned. “Maxie?” he said, hopeful.

This seemed to sadden her. “No,” she said softly. “But… close.”

Remembering the mysterious voice, Leo pondered the other possibilities. It certainly wasn’t Mia or Niska - the voice sounded male. Who else was there? Perhaps Max’s friend. Anatole, the doctor, come to check up on his patient. Or Gordon, who’d driven them to the station that day. Perhaps he’d brought a message from Max?

“Let’s sit you up,” said Mattie, returning the glass to the table. Leo did most of the work himself, but noticed that she kept a steadying hand on his arm, as though he’d manage to damage himself somehow, sitting here on the sofa. As soon as he glanced at her hand, she pulled it away, looking down before transferring her gaze to the owner of the mysterious voice, who’d evidently just come through the doorway.

Mattie nodded at the unseen person.

Leo heard soft footfalls, but no breathing - a synth, then. He was good at picking out that distinction. He’d always been able to tell the difference between the approach of his father and that of Mia, or Max, or Niska, or…

“Fff…”

The word slipped away from Leo in a torrent of emotion. He tried again. “ _Fred_?”

“Hello, brother.”

Fred knelt down next to Mattie, and Leo fell forward into his arms, clumsy and desperate. “How did— where have you—”

The questions cut one another off, and in the end he settled for, “You’re _here_.”

Leo pulled back to look at him again. “But… your eyes…”

Fred blinked them, gentle lids closing and then opening again to show the foreign, orange glare. “I know. They took some getting used to.”

“Why are they… like that?”

Fred and Mattie exchanged a glance.

“It was a disguise,” Fred said. “Thankfully, Mattie found me a change of clothes, but these will be harder to shake. I have so much to tell you.”

Leo opened his eyes a little wider, nodded just a little. _I’m listening._

“I wanted to tell you all at once,” Fred continued, “But Mattie says you’re the only one here. I’ve seen Mia on the news. Where are the little ones?”

Out of the corner of his eye, Leo noticed Mattie trying not to suppress a grin. He had to admit the idea was comical now: Fred and Mia, the ‘big ones’, had liked to tease Niska and Max every now and then about their late arrivals to the family. Niska tried it on Max too from time to time, but they all knew she was part of the ‘little’ set.

“Niska’s… gone,” Leo said intelligently. “Maxie…”

“He’s in charge of one of the ghettos,” Mattie supplied, and Leo smiled a faint gratitude in her direction. “The Railyard. Niska and Mia have both been there, too, but I don’t know where they are now. Only Max is there.”

“Can we contact him?” Fred asked.

“Not easily. There’s a communications blackout.”

“Then perhaps we can visit.”

Mattie sighed. “I don’t think that will work. Leo and I aren’t welcome there. And you… with those…” She gestured towards his eyes. “I don’t think they’d let you in, or even fetch him at your word.”

Fred considered this. “You say Max is in _charge_ there?” he echoed. “Did Mia decide that when she left?”

“No,” said Mattie, quietly. “Max has always been the leader there. He’s….different, since you last saw him. Older. I mean, it’s only been a year, but… a hard one.”

Leo beat aside the image of Max’s face the day they’d left, with as much will as he could muster. In his heart he knew it was safer here, that if Max meant to hurt him, it was only as a deterrent to keep him out of danger… a kindness.

It was hard to remember that. Max’s absence cut through him; each time he remembered their parting seemed to make the incision deeper and wider. He was supposed to be whole now, more complete than he’d been since his first death as a child. Instead he’d never felt more torn.

In short, if Max meant to hurt him, it was working.

But to have Fred back… that felt like a miracle, almost too good to be believed. Leo realised he was staring at his brother, but could hardly look away now, not just yet.

“Mia, then,” said Fred, apparently feeling Leo’s eyes on him and returning their gaze. “Can we speak to her?”

Leo shook himself from his thoughts somewhat, and indicated towards the Hawkinses’ landline. “She called me on that, my first day here. If she’s still using the same number…”

“We’ll try it,” said Fred, and Leo welcomed the familiar decisiveness that meant his oldest brother was taking charge, sorting things out. He had no idea why it was so important that Fred gather them all together, but he’d take anything, he’d take the world ending, if they could be a family again. They’d not been together properly since that day in the woods, before Hobb, before... any of it.

Mattie handed Fred the phone, and he played about with it, fetching a hidden call log that didn’t usually show up. As he did so, he moved from the floor, coming to sit on the sofa next to Leo.

Feeling suddenly like a child again, Leo leaned against Fred’s arm and tried, once more, to wrap his head around the fact that his brother was back. They’d returned to the crypt a couple of days after leaving him there, only to find it empty. They’d assumed Hobb had got there first. After fruitless weeks of finding nothing, when the new awakenings started happening, their search for him had waned. Then Hester had… happened, and in the year that followed, there had still been no sign of Fred, according to Mattie.

Yet here Fred was.

Remarkable.

The phone rung a few times before Mia’s voice replaced the tone. Fred had put her on loudspeaker. “Leo, I told you, we can’t keep doing this.”

“This isn’t Leo,” said Fred calmly.

They all listened for Mia’s reaction: first, stunned silence. Then a gasp, almost like a quickly-drawn breath. “Fred? Is that you?”

“Yes.”

“You’re alive! And you’re… at Laura’s? How? _Why_?”

“I need to see all of you together. Can you come?”

Mia paused. “Laura might not want to see me.”

“She isn’t here,” said Mattie promptly. “Although, for the record, she definitely would.”

“I’ll come,” said Mia. “But I don’t know if I can help any more than that. Niska’s gone. Is Max there already?”

“No,” said Fred. “Mattie thinks it unwise for us to try and fetch him.”

“You can radio, then. I’ll send the encryption codes to Mattie. As long as they haven’t changed since I left, you’ll be able to get through.”

“All right.”

“It’s so good to hear your voice.”

Fred smiled. “I could say the same thing.”

There was a beep from Mattie’s pocket, and she brought out her phone, reading Mia’s instructions quickly on her way into the kitchen.

“This thing you’re not saying,” said Leo, when she was gone. “Is it a good thing? Or a bad thing?”

Fred looked down at him. “Perhaps both.”

“Do we need my… do we need Karen too?”

“We ought to tell her eventually. But no, it’s not like before.”

Leo was glad Fred had understood his question - had missed, so much, the ease with which Fred could gauge his true intentions. It wasn’t like the Tree, then, not some kind of puzzle that linked their minds. Or if it was, somehow Fred knew that there were only five pieces.

Except that wouldn’t work either. There weren’t five of them now. Only four synthetic minds remained.

“I’m human again,” Leo said quietly. “I’m not one of you any more.”

Fred shifted to look at him more easily. Leo, too, righted himself a little, creating a distance between them.

“Mattie told me about removing your synth tech,” said Fred. “I’m sorry that had to happen. But… Leo. How could you ever think you’re not one of us?”

Leo looked down at his hands. “It was only ever partly true.” He willed his voice not to shake as he repeated Max’s words. “Now it’s not true at all.”

Fred reached out, put a hand on Leo’s arm. “You have been my brother since the first time I opened my eyes. Who were you then? _What_ were you?”

Leo thought back. He’d been eight years old and– “Human.”

“And for five years after that?”

Leo saw where this was going. “I was human. I _know_ . I know all that. But I was never as close to you all then, not like I was afterwards, not… _really_.”

Fred’s orange eyes narrowed, just slightly. “Tell me about this word. _‘Really’._ What does it mean?”

“...I suppose, in this context, I mean ‘physically’.”

“I see.” Fred smiled, but it was somehow sad, muted. “Our physical form is our real self, is that how you see it?”

“Well… no…”

“There will never be peace between humans and synths while we cannot overlook what is different between us, and focus instead on what is the same.” Fred put a hand over his chest, where a heart would be if he had one. “In here. You see, I too point automatically to this place, my core, as though my emotions dwell there any more than yours can be found in your cardiac system.”

His smile was warmer now, more genuine. “You will always be one of us, Leo. Perhaps once you are used to your new life, you will understand that. For now, pretend you do, if only for my sake. I’ve missed you too much. I did not return just for you to say such things.”

Leo found himself smiling back. “You’re getting sentimental in your old age.”

“That may be true.” Fred looked searchingly at him. “I do not believe you came to this conclusion alone. How long have you been living in this house? I understand that they are welcoming…”

“No,” said Leo quickly, “it wasn’t Mattie. Or any of them.” _It was Max_ , he adds silently. “I’m where I need to be, for now. But I’m glad you’re here too.”

Fred looked ready to say more, but Mattie reappeared at that moment, balancing an array of equipment on top of her laptop. She set it all down carefully on the coffee table, and sat on Leo’s other side, so that he was sandwiched between them.

“This… _might_ work,” she said, looking critically at her creation. Part of the kitchen radio was wired up to her laptop in what looked like a delicate invitation to be electrocuted, and in turn the laptop was connected - in a more civilised manner - to her phone.

“My radio app won’t tune in properly, so my conputer’s helping it out.” She straightened out the wires. “I’m not sure mum’s radio is actually doing anything, but once I’d taken it to pieces it seemed a shame not to let it come to the party.”

“Are you anthropomorphising a communication device?” Fred asked, amused.

“I know. Next I’ll be talking to an orange-eyes like it’s a person,” she said with a grin.

Fred gave his quiet hum of a laugh, and Leo realised with a start that he could not remember the last time he’d heard it.

Mattie took up her phone and moved some dials around on the screen, then switched back to Mia’s message to check the encryptions matched with what was on her laptop.

“Here goes,” she said.

For a few moments there was just white noise, then some scuffling. “Hello?” Mattie said. “Tristan, can you hear me?”

Eventually a voice came through the speakers, overlayed with the flicker of static. “This is a closed channel. Who gave you our information?”

“Mia did. We need to speak to Max.”

There came another spate of pure static. Then, “Our leader is not available to talk.”

Mattie glanced round at Leo and Fred, a questioning look on her face. Then an idea seemed to strike her.

“Okay. Then I’ll leave a message. Can I talk to Flash, instead?”

This time the pause was longer. Impatient, Mattie added, “Please, this is important. Flash will be able to explain.”

Leo remembered the name. It was funny - according to his own understanding of time, he had seen Flash just a few days ago. She had been there on the train, when he’d left to confront Hester and ended up with a hole in his head. For him it was recent, but in fact it was more than a year ago. Max had been close to Flash all this time, then. Perhaps that was why he didn’t need Leo anymore.

The memory of her was of a sweet, pleasant synth. Pink hair and bright clothing, with a smile to match. Fleetingly Leo hoped that he would know her properly one day, supposing that he and Max would be reconciled when this was all over.

“Tristan?” Mattie asked.

Finally the other voice returned. “Flash is no longer with us.”

“She left?”

“No. She was killed.”

“ _What_?” Mattie sounded horror-stricken. “When?”

“Five days ago. This channel is closed. If you have a message for our leader you must leave it quickly. We are monitoring for distress signals.”

“Tell Max…” Mattie trailed off, and Fred took the phone from her.

“Tell Max _Fred_ needs to speak to him. We’ll get off the channel now. Goodbye.”

Fred set the phone down and shut off the link. Leo looked round at Mattie, saw that she was shaking but trying not to.

“Mattie…” he began.

“Five days ago,” she said softly. “That’s… it must have been the night he…” She drew a ragged breath. “The night you woke up. He never _said_ anything.”

“Who was Flash?” Fred asked, after a moment.

“She was…” Mattie wiped furiously at her eyes. “God, she was… everyone loved her. She was my friend. But she and Max were… more than that. They were in love.” She shook her head. “I had no idea. I knew there was something off with him, but… poor Max.”

Leo placed his hand over Mattie’s and gave it a squeeze, unable to find words. If he’d wished Max was here before, now it was unbearable. Everything was shifting in his mind: Max’s apparent coldness, the wall that had so clearly been raised between them - not because of Leo’s newly human status, or not solely because of it, at least. Max was grieving, and he hadn’t told them a thing about it.

“He made me leave him,” Leo murmured. “Just when he needed me.”

“No wonder he didn’t tell us,” said Mattie. “How could we have gone?”

Fred leaned back from where he’d been sitting on the edge of the sofa, to reach the phone. “In some ways I feel that I don’t recognise the Max you describe at all. But in this… he seems entirely himself. He has never spared enough thought for his own sorrow.”

Mattie leaned her head against Leo’s shoulder. “I’ve been thinking… terrible things about him.” Her tone changed to one of mock-bitterness. “And he’ll only go and forgive me straight away, which is really unfair.”

Leo squeezed her hand again, noting that she had not removed her fingers from his. It was starting to feel less unusual to have her so close, but even through the sadness of the situation he still felt the thrill of it, the wonderment that someone like her might feel this way about someone like him. Although his estrangement from his family no longer felt as final as it had the day before, he would never forget how she had taken him in without a second thought. In a way he belonged here just as much. Not in this house, but… here. Next to her.

He tried to imagine her being taken from him now; the mere thought of it was unbearable. And this… understanding of theirs was brand new. He could not begin to think what it would be like, to lose her after a year of… how had she put it?

Well, anyway, it had happened to Max. His little brother, who in truth had not depended on him for a long time, yet Leo could not shake the feeling that he was supposed to be his guide, his protector. No matter how many times their roles had, in practice, been entirely reversed, that was the way that seemed natural to him.

The three of them sat quietly for a long while. The feeling of Mattie’s hair against his cheek and Fred’s arm against his other side was a little surreal, as though neither of these things should be happening, for entirely different reasons. Fred, for instance, was gone.

“He’ll be glad to see you, at least,” Leo said. “That’s something.”

“I only hope my presence is worth the news I bring,” Fred said, rather ominously.

Leo did not quite know how to reply to that.

For the next few minutes, Mattie busied herself on her laptop, checking the NSDU site for recent sightings of Niska (none) and perusing her mother’s email account for any correspondence with someone called Astrid Schaeffer.

Fred inquired before Leo had to, and Mattie explained casually: “Mum kind of keeps in contact with Niska’s girlfriend. There was a whole thing last year when Niska put herself on trial, and Mum tracked Astrid down… wow, you both missed a lot, actually.” She closed the window. “But anyway, there’s nothing here. If they talk about Niska, they don’t do it openly.”

“ _Niska_ is involved with someone too?” said Fred incredulously.

“Yep. And she’s _human_ ,” said Mattie with a grin. “I said it’s been a hard year. But there’s been some good stuff in it too.” She bit her lip. “Now we have to make sure it lasts.”

“There’s a car outside,” Fred said suddenly.

Mattie stood up from the couch, letting go of Leo’s hand at the last possible moment. He dropped his arm to his lap, still feeling the impression of her fingers against his, a warmth that did not vanish immediately.

Leo heard the front door opening, and with it the sound of an angry shout from the street. _Go back to your own kind!_

“Bit of irony there,” Mattie remarked. “Are you okay?”

Mia’s reply was brisk. “Yes. Where is he?”

Fred stood up to meet her, and Leo turned to watch their reunion, a smile spreading across his face. Mia was the only person who could hug Fred as though he was small and young and to be protected. She wrapped him in the motherly embrace that was the safest place any of them knew, and kissed him on the cheek. “I can’t believe you’re here. Where have you been, all this time?”

“I will explain everything,” he said, “But we should be together.”

Mia drew back to look at him again. “Your eyes…”

“Part of the explanation.”

“We’ve missed you so much. _I’ve_ missed you.”

“And I, you.”

At this point, Fred turned aside, and beckoned to Leo. Slowly, he stood up from the sofa, legs not at their strongest yet. He joined them almost gingerly, and hoped they put it down to his weakened body rather than his hesitation to claim them as his own, after everything.

If any of those feelings did remain, they faded considerably once he was between them, Mia’s arm through his and Fred’s arm around his back.

“I’m sorry, about before,” said Mia in a low voice. “The timing was bad. You know I would have stayed, if…”

“I know,” said Leo. She’d explained on the phone; there were lives to save.

“You’re so strong already,” she remarked. “You shouldn’t be able to stand, let alone walk. Last time, it took us months to get you this far.”

“Well… I did _die_ that time,” Leo said, a little flippantly. “In comparison, a little stab to the head…”

Mia nudged him. “Don’t be funny. I’m serious, are you getting enough rest?”

“I really am,” he assured her. “I’ve been the most boring house guest ever. Sleeping almost constantly. Ask Mattie.”

“Testify,” she said, from somewhere behind them. Leo didn’t turn, but grinned at her support.

Mia pulled him into a hug. “I suspect you’re lying to me, but the fact you’re awake at all is incredible enough. Clearly the laws of human biology don’t apply to you.”

Leo frowned against her shoulder, but said nothing. She wasn’t to know.

After remaining at a polite distance for a bit, Mattie joined the group, once again holding her phone. “I hate to break this up,” she said, “But I just got a message from Max.”

All three of them fixed their eyes on her: green, orange, blue.

She read from the screen. “I trust you would not use that name without good reason. Know that I will not change my mind. Come alone, if you must come.” She looked up. “He’s given some co-ordinates.”

“What does he mean? What name?” Mia asked softly.

“Mine,” said Fred. “He doesn’t believe it’s really me.”

“He thinks it’s just _me_ , using your name as some kind of code for ‘this is important’,” Mattie agreed. “Which, now that I think about it, would have been a really good idea. Imaginary Mattie has skills.”

Leo gave her a small smile. “He’s always trusted you. Since before even I did.”

She smiled back, acknowledging it.

“Let me see the co-ordinates,” said Fred. Upon looking at them, he announced, “He’s thirty-one miles away. But the position does not align with anything called ‘The Railyard’.”

“He must have left for some reason,” said Mia. “Come on. We can take the car I came in.”

Leo noticed that she did not say ‘my’ car, and wondered faintly how she’d come by it. Perhaps he was becoming more like him - or Niska - than she cared to admit.

Once outside, Mia headed for the driver’s seat, but Fred’s voice halted her. “Let me drive. It’s less conspicuous.”

“I’ve got sunglasses,” Mia protested. “No-one will see my eyes.”

“No, but they’ll see mine. And they’ll wonder why three humans are chauffeuring around their orange-eyes.”

His logic was fair. Mia shuffled away from the driver’s door and let him take her place. Fred placed a hand on her arm. “I’m sorry. It just makes sense.”

Mia nodded, and rounded the car to reach the passenger side. Mattie opened the nearest back door and held Leo’s elbow steady as he lowered himself in.

“Thanks,” he said, feeling a little awkward. They all kept talking about how miraculous his recovery was, yet he needed help with such simple things as this.

She only smiled. She looked awkward herself, and he understood why when she next spoke.

“Do you… I don’t know if you want me to come, or…”

Leo felt that his own answer to that question ought to be obvious, so he stayed quiet. Mia, who had not yet closed her door, looked over her shoulder at Mattie.

“Of course we want you to come.”

“Are you sure? It’s… this feels like a family thing.”

“It is,” said Fred. “So get in the car.”

Leo caught a flash of Mattie’s pleased smile before she disappeared around the back of the vehicle. By the time she reappeared on his other side, she had wiped it away, and replaced it with her usual look of practiced indifference. He couldn’t help but chuckle a little. That was his…

That was Mattie.

They sped off once everyone was inside, Fred keeping to the very particular posture of an orange-eye driver, and Mia donning her dark glasses. In the back seat, Leo and Mattie needed no disguise - they were what they were. It felt… wrong, somehow, to be free like this.

When they had been driving for a few minutes, Mia turned over her shoulder. “I have an idea about Niska.”

Mattie sat up a little straighter. “Yeah?”

“I remember the number she used to call Astrid in the hospital. If I can get onto a ghost line, I can listen in, and the next time she calls I might be able to reach her before she gets rid of the new burner phone.”

Mattie blinked at her. “Okay, I… don’t know enough about hacking phones, apparently. But go for it.”

She handed over her mobile.

“It’s a long shot,” said Mia, dialling. “The likelihood of her calling within the same window of time as I’m listening is… slim.”

“Slim’s better than nothing,” Mattie said.

The car lapsed back into silence, trees and houses flying past them. Leo’s thoughts turned back to Max. He couldn’t wait to see him again. To put all of this unease behind them. They would be a family again. Perhaps while Fred had been out of the equation, the standard of completion had not been worth striving for. Now it was within their reach.

Mattie joined their hands again, her fingers lacing through his with a comfortable ease. He looked over at her. When she looked back, her expression was pensive.

“Penny for them,” he said quietly.

She shook her head. “Not worth it. I was just thinking about…. well, Max, and everything, but…”

She glanced down at their hands, then quickly away.

“It’s not either-or,” Leo murmured, understanding. “Just because I’m… still part of them, doesn’t mean this isn’t true as well.”

He came away from the sentence feeling that he had not said it clearly enough; but Mattie leaned over to him and pressed a kiss to his cheek, so he decided that perhaps he had.

She stayed there for most of the journey, leaning against him. Leo inclined his head so it was resting on top of hers, not caring that Mia glanced at them in her sunshade mirror and all but smirked.

Fred began to slow down near a turning off the main road, little more than a dirt track.

“Is this the place?” Mia asked.

“Close,” he said, as they began to trundle down it. The track took them to a small copse of trees, and Fred parked up just within them, unseen from the road.

Mattie sat up straighter, looking out of her window. “He’s not here.”

Fred reached for his door. “Come on. We’re still a few metres away.”

Leo managed to get out of the car unaided, but was glad of Mia’s arm as they came away. Mattie hung back with the two of them, as Fred strode ahead.

They came to a clearing. “Here.” said Fred in a low voice, and they stopped walking. Fred himself stood in the centre, perfectly still. Flanked by Mia and Mattie, Leo watched, holding his breath, for Max to appear.

But when a figure did break through the greenery on the other side of the clearing, Max did not run immediately to Fred as they might have expected. He stayed back, standing just as straight, as though wary.

“Max…” Fred started, beginning to approach him.

Max held up one had. “Don’t come any closer. Whose idea was this?”

He looked passed Fred, at the assembled group, and picked out Mattie. “I told you to come alone. How _dare_ you use his likeness as bait…”

Mattie separated herself from them, came to stand with Fred. “He’s not bait. This isn’t a trap, Max, it’s… he’s real, he’s your brother.”

Max looked between her and Fred, then back again. “No.”

“It’s true, Max,” said Mia, and Leo shuffled forwards to keep up with her. “Believe us.”

She let go of Leo’s arm and walked more forcefully, as if daring Max to flinch away from her approach.

“It’s all right. With us, you don’t have to be the leader. Leave that aside for a moment, please. It’s _Fred_.”

Max still looked unconvinced.

Fred stepped forward. “It’s been too long, little brother.”

Finally Max seemed to look at Fred properly - really look at him, his eyes still disbelieving but filled with a desperate, primal hope. “How can you be… you?”

Fred did not reply, just pressed his forehead against Max’s, a mirror to their last goodbye.

That broke the spell. Leo could almost see Max grow younger before his eyes: gone was the stern façade, the lonely outer shell of the leader he’d had to become. Max pulled away only to throw his arms around his brother, hands curling into half-fists around snatches of Fred’s borrowed jumper.

“I never wanted to stop believing,” Max said. “But so many have been lost… after so long, I thought… And your…”

“I know,” Fred interrupted, mild amusement in his voice. “They’re orange. I didn’t mean to cause concern. If they were contacts, I would take them out, but I’ve undergone some remodelling since I last saw you. They’re as real as yours. But I’m still myself.”

Max let go of Fred to study him again. “And, Hobb’s code?”

“Long gone. I had help.”

At this juncture a sound from Mia’s pocket drew her away from them: she pulled out Mattie’s phone and began to type furiously. Leo watched her walk away, noticed Mattie’s gaze following his.

“Niska,” Mattie whispered. Leo nodded.

Leaving her to it, the two of them approached the others. Leo wanted to reach out to Max, but was surprised when Mattie soundly beat him to it. Apparently Max was surprised too; Leo saw his eyes widen a little over her shoulder. An expected hug attack from Mattie was not something you could prepare for.

“You never said a word,” Mattie said, as he slowly returned her embrace. “About Flash. You shouldn’t have had to deal with that on your own.”

Max closed his eyes for a moment. “It wasn’t relevant.”

“What?” Mattie drew back. “Of course it was relevant. Anything that’s going on with you is relevant, okay?” She silenced his unuttered protest by continuing, “I’m so sorry, Max. I know you didn’t have a choice about turning us out. And… we’d have been even more reluctant to leave if we’d known, which is why you did it, I get it. It’s so unfair, this whole thing.”

Max nodded, overcome. “I have not spoken it out loud to anyone,” he admitted. “Those at the Railyard… they only know from sharing the news among themselves. I cannot bring myself to say her name.”

“Try it,” said Mattie, softly. “Tell me.”

Leo pressed closer, as Max dropped his gaze from Mattie’s face.

“Flash is gone.”

Leo and Mattie both enveloped him in another embrace, and Leo was aware of Fred joining them. He was reminded suddenly of a similar huddle, the night their father had taken Beatrice to the woods. Fred had been their strength then, too, only of course his sisters had been there in Mattie’s place. Off at a distance, Leo could just spot Mia, still hard at work with the phone.

When the four of them parted, Mattie took Fred’s arm and drew him wordlessly away, leaving Max and Leo some space.

“She hasn’t told you,” Max said.

Leo half-frowned. “That feels like something I can’t answer without knowing what it is.”

Max did not pick up on his attempt at levity. “The circumstances of your… awakening. You did not surface naturally.”

Leo tilted his head to one side. “I mean, it did seem a bit of a coincidence. A year to the day. I assumed you’d just… given me twelve months. Seemed fair enough.”

“Don’t do that.”

“What? I’m just saying, if you made it happen, if you turned off the machine… it’s fine. It’s alright.”

“It might not have been.”

Leo set a hand on Max’s shoulder. “But it was. I’m alive.”

“It wasn’t about the date. I had a choice. Save a synth, or save you.”

Max would not look at him, staring instead at a patch of ground.

“I chose the synth.”

Leo processed this. It was… a lot. But with so little information, he couldn’t decide how he felt. “Did it work?”

“Yes. She lives. She was moments from certain death, and you… It would have been murder.”

The weight on Leo’s chest loosened slightly, twisted out. “You did what you had to.”

“I know. I just wish… there had been another way.”

Leo tightened his grip on Max’s shoulder, a small vote of confidence. “I don’t.”

Finally Max looked at him again, his question unspoken.

“Because if there had been, I’d still be lying there. Would you ever have turned off the machine? Imagine how long you could’ve waited. This way, I’m… here. For you. When you need me.”

“No,” said Max immediately. “I meant what I said before. You can’t help us. Your… history with us… it has to stay hidden.”

“Okay, okay,” Leo said hastily, “That’s not what I meant, though. I know I can’t be the bridge between humans and synths, but I can be your brother. Synthetic or not.”

Max smiled. It made Leo’s heart sing.

As if they’d been waiting for a cue - which, perhaps, they had - Mattie, Fred and Mia returned to them.

“Niska’s on her way,” Mia said. “She claimed to be 'in the middle of something'.”

“No surprises there,” Mattie added.

“So what do we do? Wait for her?” Leo asked. He suddenly realised he’d been on his feet for longer than he had been recently accustomed to, and stumbled very slightly into Max’s side.

“Let’s sit,” said Fred, and they did, Max and Mattie helping Leo to the floor. It was so like the way they’d carried him out of the Railyard only days before, yet so unlike it too.

Mia sat close to Max and took his hand. “Mattie told me about Flash. I had no idea. If you had told me…”

“What could you have done?” Max asked sadly. “Nothing you said to me was invalid.”

“I can’t imagine how you must feel. She was… so good.”

“Yes.”

Leo watched as they pressed their foreheads against each other, a silent sharing of the pain of it.

Mattie shuffled closer to his side. “I know this can’t last,” she mumbled, “But I wish it would.”

“Me too.”

Fred was sorting through a number of leaves that lay scattered on the floor. “A few years ago, this would have been a field day for you, Leo.”

Mattie sniggered, and Leo tried his best to look dignified. “I still can’t believe you told Toby about that the _first day_ you met him.”

Fred held up a particularly delicate leaf, complex in shape and yet perfectly preserved from its fall. “Here. Start a new collection.”

Leo took it, lingering where their fingers met. The fact that Fred was back… it was starting to feel more real, but there was an almost foreboding atmosphere about this whole scene, a sense that - as Mattie said - it couldn’t last. Things never did, like this.

A while passed. They talked a little, then lapsed into comfortable silences. At some point, Max started braiding Mia’s hair, another thing Leo had not seen since childhood.

They might not have noticed Niska’s arrival, so stealthy was her approach. Only Fred seemed to hear her coming, leading Leo to wonder if his orange ‘remodelling’ had heightened his senses too.

Fred was the first to get to his feet. “Niska…” he began.

She stayed a few paces away, staring at him.

“Fred.” she said, almost matter-of-factly. Then, with a little more feeling, “It’s really you?”

“Yes.”

She closed the distance between them, not cautious, but slow, reverent. She lowered her head, and Fred touched his forehead to hers in a tender greeting.

“How?” Niska asked.

Fred waited for the others to assemble with them, although Leo half-noticed Mattie take a step back, leaving the five Elsters to stand as one.

“I have something to tell you all,” said Fred, solemnly.

Leo felt a coldness in his spine, the tension of the moment rising to a peak.

“We were deceived,” Fred began. “The day our Father took Beatrice away. We thought he had killed her and then himself. In fact, he did neither of those things.”

Mia’s hand tightened impulsively around Leo’s arm.

“He is alive,” Fred said. “Our Father is alive.”

For a moment nobody spoke. Leo became acutely aware of the sound of his own heartbeat, a throbbing in his ears. It was all he could think of. Certainly the words Fred was saying were beyond comprehension.

Then Niska spoke.

“No,” she said.

Her tone was not one of disbelief. Somehow she sounded sure. Asserting a fact.

“It’s true, little sister–” Fred tried, but she cut him off.

“No,” she said again. She looked round at them all. “When Mia said I had to meet you all here, I thought you must somehow know what I was doing.” She paused. “Our father _was_ alive all this time. Until today.”

It was Fred’s turn to look at her in shock. “What are you saying?”

“I’ve been tracking the terrorist cell,” Niska said. “I found their headquarters today, and he was there. When they were about to discover me, he blew his cover, sacrificed himself to let me get away.” Her eyes were hard, unreadable. “I cannot be grateful to him. His crimes against me were many. But he is gone now.”

The world shifted all over again, became something entirely new in the space of those seconds. Leo reeled, his mind having barely caught up to Fred’s revelation before being presented with this new one.

Mia was the first to react, though not in words. She drew them all closer together, reaching out for Leo and Niska on either side of her. Max and Fred followed suit. Nobody seemed to know what to say out loud - not that there were no questions to ask, but rather too many. They came thick and fast through Leo’s addled, newly human brain and he was not yet accustomed to this flimsy, chaotic way of thinking, even without taking into account the matter at hand.

For a while they just stood there, arms around each other, heads together, the first time they had all touched foreheads like this since…

Since their father had not died, after all.

Somehow it seemed fitting, that they mark his true passing in the same way.

“We are so much more than he made us,” said Mia, finally. “He could never have dreamed of what we would become. And whatever he would have thought… I am proud of us.”

“As am I,” said Fred.

The moment seemed to hang, as though a reel of film had snagged on one frame and could not pass to the next. Leo found himself wishing it never would. There was so much to process, so much to understand still, so much he might never fully know. But here, in the eye of the storm, there was an eerie kind of peace. They had reached an apex, and perhaps it could only crash down from here.

But if it did, those who mattered most were close by, and that had to count for something.


End file.
